A New Kind of Literary Pulse

PONOS ROAD  PONOS was the personified Greek spirit of hard labor and toil.   The wide, gravel path snaked through a scrub meadow joining two working-class neighborhoods. Every kid in the ... [+]

I stand by my front door with car keys in hand, flip-flops on my feet, panic in my heart."Let me get this right: I am going to take this gigantic menopausal body," I wave my hand like a Price is Right ... [+]

For RichardIt was 1984 and we were pretending to be spies.It was one of those "adult" games that twists your arm to mingle. Our host, David, greeted us at the door with a card that had our assignment ... [+]

JANUARY 2020. 7234 miles from Chicago, China reports the first death from a novel coronavirus. There is no evidence it can spread among humans. I'm commuting to school and two women on the train are ... [+]

Nature is calling. As a new intern in the medical intensive care unit (MICU) my bladder is not yet trained to resist this instinctual human need. The team has been rounding for six hours, discussing ... [+]

I met Mia for the first time at my tennis club. A small Chinese woman with dark brown eyes and short-cropped black hair, she greeted me with a heavy Chinese accent."Are you Ken?" she asked.To my ... [+]

My hands used to create magic. I think with the increasing demands of adulthood, they've had their spark pulled right out of them. My little sister's hands still glisten with it, but I fear her hunge ... [+]

We have to wear blank black clothes to mask class so our selves don't intrude. People with hair in their face must pin their hair off their face. When you're wearing black and have your face covered ... [+]

It looks like a ghost heart. And it feels a little like Jello.—Doris Taylor, bioengineerI.On the radio show Speaking of Faith, researcher Doris Taylor is telling us how to build a new heart. They ... [+]

I was still uncivilized. Among the Starbucks Wednesday morning commuters who awaited lattes while wearing ties, pencil skirts, and blowouts, I stood out. Air-dried hair frizzed from my head, baggy ... [+]

A pale, blonde woman in pink scrubs first asks my name and birthday. She has an accent that sounds Scandinavian, and she looks past the tears in my eyes as I answer her questions. She leads me down a ... [+]

It was after 10:30 at night. I was surrounded by towers of nondescript apartment complexes over 20 stories high, though the middle courtyard was graced with beautiful trees hiding maze-like walkways ... [+]

We drove south on York Road, passing the large brick house that always stole my attention. I peered past my mother's arms and the steering wheel, to take another long, unblinking look. The exterio ... [+]